Shiver
by lunar mint
Summary: Spoilers. Will being melodramatic and really OOC. Review if you so desire and whatnot. :)


I never was able to get inside your head.  
  
Perhaps it is merely my own flaws that prevented it. From the first day I breathed the Caribbean air, something tasted strangely in it, and I could never name that lingering sensation. Perhaps it was you. But I will never know now.  
  
I do not remember much of anything from before the age of ten. My mother raised me mainly, in England. I knew little of my father, and he was never around. Was told he was a merchant sailor out on the seas, making an honest living.  
  
I knew nothing. Elizabeth found me floating on a piece of driftwood, pale as the winter sky, and barely breathing, just a literal corpse with a fading pulse. The men on the governor's ship, her father's actually, pulled me out of the jade sea and onto the splintered deck. And from then on, my life was spent in Port Royal.  
  
It's strange how I refuse to delve into the past few years somewhat. Granted they were spent gazing upon Elizabeth Swann, worshipping from a far in what I believed was love. And also, those days were spent at the forge more often than not, molding swords and learning the trade from a then not so drunken Brown. I must admit, it is something I became quite good at. But that is not the point of my musings, though there may not be one.  
  
Elizabeth.  
  
Purity. Blazing fire and the essence of a woman. She was, in fact, sought after by many, adored by even more. I was swept up in her loveliness, in her dim glow. I loved her, still do but not in the manner I thought. She was untouchable, always out of my reach and that, by human nature, made me desperate for her, to touch her shining tresses and pale skin. And yet, when that was finally realized. I felt the passion simply seep away, like water through the seams of my fingers. So, what I had long sought after, was just like a game to me. Was I any better than the men who had helped me along?  
  
No. I wasn't.  
  
Those weeks spent aboard various vessels, rocking on the open sea changed me more quickly than the past seven years of proper teachings and correct life. But I was merely evolving in your presence. When we first met, as banal I may sound here, that is when my personality was incensed and began to transform. It was a slow, aching process that you ignited and I was unaware of until the day we parted.  
  
But how could you, a swaggering and inebriated pirate, do this? How did I fall under the thinking and musing of a man so immoral and perplexing. No, you were not immoral, simply amoral. You had few morals, if any at all, and I was just wound tightly around the boundaries set by my years in the port.  
  
You utterly and completely confused me. I did not understand much of your reasoning. You carried a compass that did not even point north, wore a dozen rings, and kept your hair flowing freely, though rather stiffly as pirates are not such clean people. Even with that, your pattern of speech was something quite odd, and as we went from place to place, it became even more unique. Sure, many pirates talk with the lingo and cut off the beginnings of words, but they did not have the tempo you did. Their voices were not hypnotizing and also frightfully shocking when necessary.  
  
.Anyway, I will say you knew what you were doing. It all worked out in the end, like you said it would if Lady luck was on our side. I guess she was.  
  
So, why am I here, nursing my histrionic thoughts, rather than being satisfied? There is no legitimate reason for this imprudence on my part. I do not even know what I am talking about here.  
  
Maybe it all goes back to what you said about my father, the truth you swore. That he was not some merchant sailor but in fact, a pirate much like you. It disgusted me at first but I know now he was still a good man, that he had principles. He sailed the seas with justice on his mind and loyalty to his captain.  
  
Strange. you were his captain once, during the mutiny. You never really enlightened me to that tale. Gibbs told me of it, and for you, it must have been a shameful chapter. Yes, that was why you never told me, completely understandable. But my father. he had not wanted it in the least. But such an event had an obvious and powerful effect on a pirate. Especially you. You lost more than dignity. You lost your love.  
  
The Pearl. Yet another idiosyncrasy of yours that escaped me. Perhaps until now. Is that my answer though?  
  
Pirate blood, you told me, time and time again. I'd long for the sea one day, wish to stand at the helm of a ship and breathe the brackish scent in the air. And watch for hours as waves crashed over one another. I would watch the moon, in the dark of twilight, and shiver as the wind swept about me, propelling the ship into freedom and adventure. My body would become accustomed to the tremble inducing wind and harsh sun blazing on my skin. And it would all be what I longed for.  
  
And I would not be here, sitting on the docks, watching the sea, wondering endlessly. Wondering why I did not join your crew somehow, though it would seem illogical and mad. But that was okay. Because you were Captain Jack Sparrow, the craziest and most brilliant man I ever knew. With passion for freedom and love of the sea that burned with an intensity that dampened my past adoration of Elizabeth.  
  
I admit it then. I miss the ocean and the adventure, though it was a fleeting time. The exhilaration was akin to the highest peak of life. The romanticized life was what I sought, though I knew it was much more. I felt the sea calling to me, wanting me to come back. And I could not ignore her. But it wasn't simply the calling and the urge.  
  
The emptiness I feel and strange sorrow tells me one thing. That.  
  
I miss it all. Even you, Captain Sparrow.  
  
But it is all a thing of the past, and the Pearl's black sails will never loom in the distance from this point. And I will never see your boastful smirk or swaying walk again. I will never get inside your head. 


End file.
